




He who takes what isn’t his’n, 
When he’s pinched will go to pris’n 



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I 


THE BIG FOUR 

AND ONE MORE 






















“ The sparks flew left and right about him; the steel of the tomahawks 

flashed in his face” 




THE 


BIG FOUR 

and One zdACore 

BY 

ANNIE W. FRANCHOT 

Author of “B^s and Wings,” “Max ” 
and other stories 


Frontispiece by Leslie Thrasher 



OLEAN, N. Y. 

F. H. OAKLEAF CO., PUBLISHERS 
1923 














* 


4 


Copyright , 1923, by Annie W. Franchot 



THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, MASS. 


NOV 22 *23 

©G1A739959 


■w* 1 j 


To 

MY BOYS 





























9 



THE BIG FOUR 

AND ONE MORE 


THE BIG FOUR 

AND ONE MORE 


Chapter I. 

round a camp fire at the edge of 
the pine woods that formed a 
background for the village of 
Pemberton, in Minnesota, were 
grouped four boys. 

The boys were known in the village as 
the “Big Four,” for they were the leaders in 
every undertaking — big or little. 

Peter Fendall was the leader of the group; 
he was the grandson of the pioneer of the vil¬ 
lage — a man of distinction in the State. 
Peter was a boy of high standards and the boys 
all loved him because he was a good sport and, 
as Billy Bruce said, “You could always bet on 
Peter.” Peter was “Big Chief” of the boys' 
out-of-door club and head of the Big Four. 

C9] 








THE BIG FOUR 


Billy Bruce was “ Chief Big Ear,” the name 
suggested by the size of Billy’s ears and the 
acuteness of his hearing. Billy was the Red 
Men’s best scout. 

Jack Bennett was Chief Medicine Man be¬ 
cause his father was the village doctor, and 
sometimes surgeon, a very important man in 
the village. Jack did a great deal of plaster¬ 
ing and bandaging for the Big Four in the way 
of First Aid. 

Timothy Ware was called “ Little Chief 
Big Heart,” for although Tim was small of 
stature he had the heart of a giant and great 
endurance. 

The boys’ club was called the “Red Men’s 
Club.” Just why it was the Red Men’s no one 
knew, unless it was that they claimed to be 
really truly Americans. They were all Chiefs, 
as you see, so avoiding the danger of heated 
controversy. 

The Chiefs seated around the fire were hav¬ 
ing a very earnest discussion. Sitting on a 
stump near-by playing with a chipmunk, one 
eye on the chipmunk and one on the group 
around the fire, was the object of their discus- 

[io] 


— AND ONE MORE 


sion, Micky Mac Rae, generally known as the 
worst boy in town. 

Micky loved little Tim Ware and had begged 
of him to be taken into the Red Men’s Club, 
promising by all the marbles in his pocket 
that he would be good and bring no disgrace 
upon the “Big Four” whose record had never 
had a blemish. 

Little Tim’s heart went out to the boy and 
he had put up the question to the Chiefs, as 
they sat around the fire, of taking Micky in¬ 
to the Club. 

Peter said, as he speared a piece of crispy 
bacon from the pan and held it up to curl and 
cool, “How could we be the Big Four if we 
took Mick in?” 

Bruce, who was the politician of the group, — 
his father was the President of the Village, — 
spoke up quickly, 

“We could be the Big Four and One More 
— that would n’t be quite the same as the 
whole thing you know.” 

“Uh-huh,” said Peter thoughtfully. 

“You know, Chiefs, we got to get some money 
some way, our treasury has only twenty-seven 
[ii] 


THE BIG FOUR 


cents, — that won't go far to buy things, — 
Micky is a good fellah at trapping and busi¬ 
ness, they say." So spoke Jack, who was the 
treasurer of the Club. 

Tim sat with his chin in his hands thinking 
hard. When he looked up the boys said, 

“Well, Tim, what shall we do?" 

“I've been thinking," said Tim with his 
sweet smile, “that we might do a big thing for 
the town by taking Micky in; I believe there's 
a chance of making a good citizen out of Mick 
— he's got a lot of good in him — he's awful 
kind-hearted, you know. When Miss Fins ter 
(the village seamstress) lost her black cat and 
every one felt so sorry for her but never tried to 
get her another, Micky found Miss Finster's 
cat dead in the woods, and he hunted until he 
found a stray cat just like it, only it had two 
white spots on its back. 

“Well, Mick got some black paint and painted 
those spots black, and then he taught the cat 
to come to the name ‘Tansy,' just like Miss 
Finster's original. When Mick took the painted 
cat to Miss Finster and said he'd found it (he 
didn't say her cat), he wasn't telling a lie, 
[ 12 ] 


— AND ONE MORE 

was he? And poor Miss Fins ter was so happy 
that she wanted to kiss Micky, and would 
have, but he just wriggled out of her hands. 
She said no one could ever tell her that Micky 
Mac Rae was the worst boy in town, but later 
she could not understand why Tansy turned 
gray in spots, and why she took to the woods 
at the sign of a paint brush. Micky had hard 
work to keep his face sober when she asked his 
advice about it.” 

“I say that’s good enough, boys,” said 
Peter. “If Micky would take pains to do that 
for an old maid who was no relation to him, 
he is a good chap. If he is not truthful we 
will soon know it. I know he is loyal, for he 
fought almost to a real finish that boy who 
stepped on our flag and said something in a 
foreign language that Mick thought insulting to 
the flag.” Bruce added: “He is fearless, I know, 
for he went right into Mrs. Smith’s house the 
night it burned and carried out her treasures. 
Some people were mean enough to say he 
probably set the house on fire, but no one could 
make me believe that of Mick; he is full of fun 
and mischief but I believe he is honest and 
[13] 


THE BIG FOUR 


true. I say let’s try him and see. If he is 
really bad it will be easy to drop the ‘One 
More.’” 

The boys voted a solid vote “Yes” for 
Mick. Then they were ready to call the little 
boy at once, but Tim felt there were some 
things to be considered although he was de¬ 
lighted at the unanimous vote for Micky—his 
friend. He asked Peter to call them to order 
and said, “There are some things to consider, 
Chiefs, Mick must be initiated first of all.” 

“And pay an initiation fee,” said Jack, ever 
conscious of the treasury. 

“I say, boys, what shall we call him?” said 
Bruce. 

“Chief of Cats?” asked Jack, who loved a 
joke. 

“ Oh, no, that would give him away,” said Tim. 

“Chief Never Too Late To Mend” was 
finally decided upon. 

“Let’s leave off the last two words,” sug¬ 
gested Peter. “It might be embarrassing.” 
And so the last two words were left off and 
Micky never knew why he was “Never Too 
Late.” But he didn’t care what he was as 
[14] 


— AND ONE MORE 


long as he got his heart's desire and was taken 
into the Red Men's Club by the Big Four. 

The Four Chiefs stood and in great dignity 
raised their hands and voices to summon Micky 
from his stump. Peter was spokesman, and as 
the little bare-footed, freckle-faced, sinewy- 
limbed boy joined the group he said, 

“Come in, Mick, we're going to take you 
into the Red Men's Club on the following con¬ 
ditions: that you make so good that the village 
of Pemberton forgets that you were ever called 
the worst boy in town." 

Mick looked up at Peter with a grin and 
said, “But Peter, I wouldn't be here to join 
this Club if I was so awful good, 'cause I heard 
Deacon Beabout say , t The good die young,' so 
it don't pay to be so awful good, but I'm goin' 
to make myself good enough tb stay in the 
Red Men’s Club. Say, fellahs, what's the initia¬ 
tion fee? " Mick anxiously awaited theiranswer, 
with visions of things he could not produce. 

“The initiation fee," said Peter, looking at 
the boys for corroboration, “is — one skunk 
skin, one whole woodchuck skin, two gray 
squirrels, one rabbit, two dozen apples (red), 
CiS] 


THE BIG FOUR 


ten cents in change, and enough feathers for 
our headdresses in the parade.” 

“Gee whilikins! How much time do you 
give a fellah to get all that game? That’s some 
big business for a kid like me.” 

“Well, this is June 4th,” said Peter, “that 
gives you a whole month. We have been asked 
to join the 4th of July parade, and we must 
make a good show, for you know that new 
Club called the Boy Scouts is coming over 
from St. Paul and we don’t want them to get 
ahead of us. We ‘Big Four’ have always run 
things in this town and run them pretty well, 
we think. We are n’t sure the town needs 
anything better. We’ve done our best to care 
for the poor. Have n’t we chopped down trees 
and made firewood for poor old palsied Ellen? 
We have shovelled snow from the walks of the 
widows and fatherless and old maids. We’ve 
tried to keep up our good deeds at the rate of 
one or so a week, but now here comes these Boy 
Scouts doing a good deed every day. Gee whizz! 
Chiefs, we’ve got to do them one better.” 

“Well, I don’t know what we will do,” said 
Bruce dolefully. 

[16] 


AND ONE MORE 


“I tell you, we'll hunt up some widows and 
fatherless in the outskirts, a lot of them, all 
that we can find, and do two good deeds every 
day," answered Tim. 

“Good, Tim, we can't let these Scouts from 
St. Paul put up a better show in this town 
than the Big Four," said Peter. 

“Mick must see our By-Laws before we ini¬ 
tiate him," said Bruce, who was secretary of 
the Club. 

“Sure, there they are Mick, read 'em," said 
Peter as Jack drew a folded sheet of paper 
from his pocket and handed it to Mick. 

BY-LAWS AND CONSTITUTION 

OF THE 

BIG FOUR'S RED MEN’S CLUB. 

Artikul I. 

Meetings to be held in farmer Pillsbury's corn 
crib when not full. 

1. There is to be no quarling, fine one cent. 

2. There is to be no bad langwidge used, fine 

one cent. 

3. There is to be no spiting on flore, fine one 

cent. 


[17] 


THE BIG FOUR 


4. Dus of two cents must be pade the first of 

month. 

5. Members must always rise when ladies 

come in, one cent. 

6. Members must always take off their hats 

in the presence of ladies, one cent. 

7. No smoking — only corn silk, one cent. 

8. No person must lite matches in the corn 

crib, it’s dangerus, one cent. 

Artikul II. 

Section I. By a two-thirds vote any member 
may be suspended or fined for doing anything 
unconstitushinal. 

Artikul III. 

It will be the duty of any member to see that 
clothes and the like are kept clean and everything 
in order. 

Artikul IV. 

When there is anything patriotic going on in the 
town the members of the Big Four must take a 
active part in it. 

The End — so be it. 

Signed and Sealed: Peter Fend all, 

Jack Bennett, 
William Bruce, 
Sealed by a drop of real blood. Timothy Ware. 

Ignorance of these rules not excepted. 

[18] 


— AND ONE MORE 


Micky, with serious face and tongue in 
one cheek, read with some difficulty (it must 
be said) the By-Laws of the Red Men's Club, 
and with a dignified bow of approval, too 
greatly impressed for words, handed back the 
very smudgy By-Laws to Jack. 

“ You see, Mick, we got to make some money 
for our outfit in that 4th of July parade," said 
Jack. “That is why we have to ask such a big 
initiation fee. Those Scouts will be all dressed 
up in uniform and we’ve got to have some 
feathers. We’ve all got to do our best in every 
line. I know you can get all those animals — 
I’d be glad to help you if you like.’’ 

“I’m on, Jack,’’ said Mick, “I’ll do my part. 
I’ll get them animals.’’ 

Tim whispered in Mick’s ear, “Good boy, 
Mick, but say those animals,’’ and Mick 
winked yes. 

Peter drew himself up with dignity, making 
every inch count, and, to tell the truth, there 
were a good many inches of very good-looking 
boy in Peter. 

Addressing the Chiefs around the camp fire, 
he said, “Now we will proceed with the ini- 

[19] 


THE BIG FOUR 


tiation. Attention Chiefs! Michael Mac Rae, 
commonly known as Micky, is to be taken into 
the sacred circle of the Red Men’s Club. Chief 
Big Ear, scan the paths and listen with your 
strong ear to the ground to assure us that no 
white man intrudes upon our ceremony. Stir 
up the camp fire, Little Chief Big Heart, and 
Chief Medicine Man, get ready your first aids to 
the injured, in case of any weakness in the sub¬ 
ject under initiation. Are the torches ready, 
Chief Big Ear? And have you the tomahawks 
sharpened?” 

By this time Micky’s eyes were popping out 
of his head and his hair was gradually rising. 
To a close observer his knees suggested un¬ 
certainty. 

The sun had gone down and the woods were 
dark in the background. The fir trees looked 
like sentinels guarding the camp. Jack brought 
the four pine-knot torches lighted from the 
fire. The waving of the blazing torches made 
the figures of the boys dance and grow weirdly 
tall against the dark shadows. 

Micky was made to stand in a circle drawn 
by Billy Bruce. Then the Big Four Chiefs, 
[ 20 ] 


— AND ONE MORE 


each armed with a blazing torch in one hand 
and a tomahawk in the other, began dancing 
around Micky in a most devilish and terrify¬ 
ing way. 

The sparks from the torches flew left and 
right about him; the steel of the tomahawks 
flashed in his face. From some pocket red 
paint had been produced, enough to make the 
faces of the four chiefs gleam blood red in the 
firelight. 

Faster and faster danced the fiendish figures; 
thicker flew the sparks. One landed on poor 
Micky’s arm and burned right through the thin 
shirt but he never flinched. A waving toma¬ 
hawk just grazed his leg but he stood rigid. 
Scared stiff he was inside , but to all outward 
appearances as cool and brave as any of Peter 
Fendall’s pioneer ancestors. 

The boys danced, shouting bloodcurdling 
yells, until the torches burned low. Then 
throwing them on the fire they stacked their 
tomahawks at Micky’s feet, grasped his hand, 
and hailed him as “ Chief Never Too Late.” 

Peter then said, “Now, Chief Never Too Late, 
you have proven yourself a brave man, and 
[ 21 ] 


THE BIG FOUR 


are received into the Red Men’s Club. From 
now on we will be called the ‘Big Four and 
One More.’” 

Micky gathered himself together and tried 
hard to forget the bum on his arm and his 
shaking nerves as he said, “Big Chiefs — I 
thank you for the honor you show me, and 
I will be on hand July 2nd with the initiation 
stuff, and I hope you will never be sorry you 
took me in; I will do my best.” 

Peter called the Chiefs to order now to dis¬ 
cuss the parade. 

“We must make some money some way for 
we will need lots of things to make a good show 
in the parade,” said Billy Bruce. 

“We got to have some animuls — a parade 
ain’t no parade without animuls,” added 
Jack. 

“I think Father will let me have our cow,” 
said Peter, “but just bein’ a cow won’t be any 
excitement.” 

“No,” Micky answered thoughtfully, “noth¬ 
ing excitin’ about a plain cow. I tell you what 
we’ll do. We’ll make a zebra out o’ her — 
we’ll paint her in waving stripes. How would 
[ 22 ] 


— AND ONE MORE 


it be to make a real 4th of July cow out of 
her and paint her red, white and blue?” 

“Glorious,” said admiring Tim under his 
breath. 

“ But where will we get the paint? ” Jack asked, 
conscious always of the limits of the treasury. 

Peter answered quickly, “Well borrow some 
from Deacon Beabout. He’s got some red 
paint to paint his chicken coop, and red stripes 
with white stripes and a few polka dots of 
blue would be just lovely on our old cow.” 

“I bet there will be some big polka dots when 
we get painting,” giggled Tim. 

“My old billy goat will make a show,” said 
Billy Bruce questioningly. 

“Sure, Bill, and I will bring my pet rabbits 
on my express cart,” ventured Tim. 

“Let’s paint ’em all like they do the ships — 
camelflage, they call it,” said Mick. 

“Oh, yes, let’s make ’em all look like some¬ 
thing they’re not,” said Peter, warm with 
enthusiasm. 

“Let’s paint the rabbits pink with dots of 
blue and their ears yellow with purple lining.” 
Tim’s imagination was working. 

[23] 


THE BIG FOUR 


“Great,” exclaimed Jack, “why, we can 
have a whole menagerie if we do that. I wish 
we had something big like an elephant or a 
horse; of course it would take more paint, but 
it would fill in better than rabbits,” with an 
apologetic look toward Tim. 

Ever ready Micky said, “Ill tell you fellers, 
Chiefs I mean, there’s an old white horse let 
loose in a pasture about a quarter of a mile 
outside of town and he does n’t seem to belong 
to any one. I go out sometimes and ride him 
around the pasture. I’ll ride him in and if 
we can get some red, white and blue paint we 
can make a picture out of him, sure thing.” 

The boys all danced with joy at Micky’s 
suggestion, and Peter felt sure with a patriotic 
horse and cow, a polka-dotted goat, to say noth¬ 
ing of snakes and rabbits, a success was sure. 

“I think my Father will give me my July 
allowance a little before July ist if I tell him 
I need it very badly,” said Peter. 

“I’ll try my Dad, too,” said Jack. 

“Well, I think my Father ought to give me 
something too,” said Billy, “for it will be to 
the Mayor’s glory to have a fine parade.” 

[24] 


— AND ONE MORE 


Poor little Tim was silent. Boys are cruel 
little animals but the boys didn't mean to 
hurt Tim, and their hearts went out to him at 
once. Tim’s father had lost his life while fly¬ 
ing in the Lafayette Escadrille in France. He 
had landed over the German lines badly injured 
but by great strategy and heroism had escaped 
from the German camp and worked his way 
over to the French lines by crawling a few 
inches at a time; but the effort and loss 
of blood were too much for his strength 
and he died in a hospital back of the firing 
lines. 

Mick came to Tim’s rescue, “I ain’t got no 
Pa, Tim. Anyway, I never seen my Pa, he 
died when I was born. I just got a Uncle; he’s 
an awful big man — my Ma’s brother, he’s 
big like a policeman. He’s the giant in Barnum 
and Bailey’s Circus, but I never seen him.” 

“You must say ‘saw,’” whispered Timmy, 
who felt responsible for Mick’s improvement. 
His heart was grateful to Micky but he could n’t 
easily express it just then. 

“Alright, Tim, I never did saw him, it’s a 
fact.” 

[25] 


THE BIG FOUR 


“But, Mick, don’t say did and saw too,” 
pleaded Tim. 

“Alright, I just as soon cut,” said Mick, 
undaunted. 

Tim gave it up. 

“I wisht I could get my Uncle for the parade 
— would n’t it be a cinch, though?” 

“Try it Mick, try it,” said Peter enthu¬ 
siastically. 

“Well, if I can’t get a horse , I’ll try my 
Uncle” answered Mick proudly. 

“Now, Chiefs, it is getting late and we must 
disband to meet next week at this place, and 
bring all the paint we can scrape together and 
any feathers we can find to make our head¬ 
dresses. Remember we need a lot of feathers 
to make a show,” cautioned Peter. 

The boys separated with their brains teem¬ 
ing with plans for the parade. There were 
many wide-awake eyes that night as each boy 
lay planning what he could do to make the 
parade a success, and there were many night¬ 
mares too, red , white and blue painted night¬ 
mares. 


[26] 


Chapter II. 


he days passed only too quickly 
for Micky. He was determined 
to bring his full quota of initia¬ 
tion fee, so he set traps far and 
near and caught two rabbits and 
a woodchuck. He could not devise a way 
to catch a skunk without getting too near it, 
until one day a happy thought came to him. 
Why not try a lariat? 

So one afternoon after school Micky went out 
in the woods with a determined “to do or die” 
expression. Fortune favored him; he saw a 
wood pussy sleeping under a tree. He swung 
his lariat but missed. Slipping up softly with 
stick in hand Mick then tried to strike the 
pussy on the back as he had been taught to 
do by the old hunter of the village. The hunter, 
Henry McFee, had said if he would strike the 
pussy a quick blow on the back, the animal 
would be killed painlessly and without injuring 
the fur. Mick took careful aim, but Miss Pussy 
[27] 





THE BIG FOUR 


was too quick for him, — she had been playing 
possum and had hoped, by feigning sleep, 
to escape her fate. When Mick came near 
enough to strike, she sprang up and ran swiftly 
away with her bushy tail held high over her 
back. Making all speed she reached her hole 
in a hollow tree, where she completely dis¬ 
appeared. 

Over stones and brambles, Mick followed, 
but Pussy was too fast for him. Mick’s first 
thought was to make her prisoner, so he filled 
the entrance to the pussy’s home with stones, 
and then sat down to think what next he must 
do. 

While Mick sat thinking very seriously he 
heard a sharp bark, and turning, he saw his 
dog Muggs bounding toward him. He was glad 
to see his playmate. It was lonesome work 
hunting alone, but he had purposely left 
Muggins at home to-day. 

“Well, Muggs, I’m glad to see you. I’ve 
got an animal in that tree, Muggs, and I wonder 
if I could trust you to stand guard here while 
I run home and get the chloroform bottle. I’m 
going to chloroform that pussy cat like Ma 
[28] 



“ Yon are a gentleman , you are, Muggs” 







— AND ONE MORE 


chloroformed our old cat when she got hurt. 
See? Think you can do it, Muggs?” 

The dog sniffed the air and looked dubi¬ 
ous, but finally settled down with both eyes 
glued to the old tree. 

“Good, Muggs, you are a gentleman, you 
are, Muggs, and I can trust you under any 
circumstances. Some folks call you my mon¬ 
grel cur. I don’t care, ’cause I know you are 
a gentleman and a fellah’s friend, Muggs. 
Good old Muggins!” 

Evidently this method of moral suasion 
suited Muggins for he winked at Micky un- 
derstandingly and his homely face seemed 
actually to smile as he settled down to his 
task of watchful waiting as Mick started on 
a run down through the woods to the road 
that led to his home in the outskirts of the 
village. 

It was not long before Muggins pricked up 
his ears when he saw Micky coming breathless 
and red faced through the woods. 

“Now, Muggs, I’m going to show that pussy 
that if she is smarter than I am at running, I 
am cleverer than she is at thinking.” 

[29] 


THE BIG FOUR 


Mick soaked a big sponge with the chloro¬ 
form and quickly pulled away one of the stones 
and popped the sponge in the hole, closed the 
stone in place, and then took off his coat and 
held it closely over the stones and hole. 

Muggins looked mystified, cocking one eye 
at his little master — if only he could speak 
his questions, poor, bottled-up human dog! 

Micky waited some time and then carefully 
removed his coat and one by one the stones. 
There was the pussy, curled on the ground, and 
this time she was not playing possum for she 
did not respond to Muggins’s sharp barking. 

Micky handled the little animal very gingerly 
and made Muggins keep at a distance. 

“I got to get her home, Muggs. I can’t drag 
her, ’cause’twould spoil her fur. I’ll tell you, 
I ’ll carry her on a hemlock bough. See, Muggs! ’ ’ 
Micky broke from a hemlock tree a thick 
needled bough and with two sticks lifted her 
upon it, which operation interested and ex¬ 
cited Muggins. Then they started for home, 
Muggins taking the lead and Micky following, 
holding the pussy-ladened bough out before 
him. 


[30] 


— AND ONE MORE 

When they reached home Micky put his 
burden down outside the gate, and, as he opened 
it, Muggs squeezed through with Mick and sat 
down with him on the porch steps to help 
consider the next step. 

Fortunately Mrs. Mac Rae was not yet home 
from her day’s work at the doctor’s house, where 
she always helped on Mondays. 

“Now, Muggs, comes the awful question of 
skinning the animal. I guess I ’ll bury her, and 
we’ll run down town and get Henry to come up 
and help.” 

No sooner said than done, and the hunter 
came back with Micky and Muggins, and most 
skillfully showed Micky how to skin and pre¬ 
pare the animal for sale. And that evening 
before bedtime Micky was a happy boy, for he 
had his full initiation fee in hand and the meet¬ 
ing was to be held on the following evening. 

But Micky’s “Waterloo” came the next 
morning when he went into the schoolroom. 
Poor Mick had only one suit of clothes. The 
teacher sniffed and frowned, and closed all the 
windows, which of course made the matter 
worse. Finally Miss Thompson, the teacher, 

[31] 


THE BIG FOUR 


said, “Is there any one here who has been near 
a—a—a—pussy cat that lives in the woods?” 

Every member of the Big Four held his 
breath. Tim felt like just springing to his feet 
to claim the pussy cat, when Mick, with fiery 
red face and Washingtonian air, stood up cling¬ 
ing wildly to his desk with one hand and, hold¬ 
ing up the other, said, 

“I did it, Miss Thompson. I caught a—a— 
wood pussy” (the rest of the scholars, except 
the Big Four, were tittering). Mick continued, 
“I’m awful sorry I came, Miss Thompson, and 
I think I better go home.” At this Mick’s 
dog Muggs came bounding in the room to him 
as if he felt there was trouble brewing for his 
master. 

Mick’s confession had only aroused the in¬ 
terest and curiosity of the children, and Miss 
Thompson wisely said that Micky could stay 
if there were no opposition. Every hand went 
up for Mick. 

Miss Thompson said she thought they might 
go outside and sit on the grass for a time while 
Micky told them just how he had caught the 
pussy cat that lived in the woods. The story 

[32] 


— AND ONE MORE 

lost nothing in the telling. Micky left little to 
the imagination, and the children had thrills 
enough for one morning. Even Mick’s dog was 
allowed to stay by his master during the session, 
and he seemed to feel something of a hero, too. 

By some means or other Miss Thompson 
managed to get a new suit of clothes for Micky 
before the next day, and order was restored in 
the school. Of course the Chiefs were all on 
tiptoe to hear more from Mick, and each one 
was prompt in his attendance at the meeting 
after school. 

Discipline, however, must be maintained, and 
no one asked a question until Big Chief Peter 
called the meeting to order and said, 

“The first thing under discussion is Chief 
Never Too Late’s presentation of his initiation 
fee and how he got it.” 

Micky jumped up and explained the means 
by which he had obtained all of his plunder. 
Then from a well-covered basket he brought 
out, first a fine woodchuck skin, well cleaned 
and cured; two gray squirrel skins, one live 
rabbit, two dozen fine, big red apples, tempting 
enough to make any one’s mouth water. Next 
[ 33 ] 


THE BIG FOUR 


came a bunch of the most wonderful feathers 
the boys had ever seen, red, blue, yellow and 
green, dyed with the Diamond Dyes Mick’s 
mother used for her rag rugs. 

A murmur of real applause went around the 
group; then from Mick’s pocket came a ten- 
cent piece. Last, but by no means least, and 
surely not unheralded, came the beautiful 
skunk skin. 

Then the boys rose in a body and cheered the 
little barefooted boy, — cheered and cheered, 
until Micky felt that he would rather be Micky 
Mac Rae in the Big Four than President of the 
United States. It’s all in the same line any¬ 
way — appreciation of work well done. 

Peter then called the meeting to order and 
appointed Micky and Jack as a committee of 
two to sell at the highest price possible the 
skins, with some squirrel skins he and Billy had 
brought, and also the rabbit, and authorized 
them to buy the necessary red, white and blue 
paint with the proceeds of the sale. Peter had 
already agreed to borrow some green paint 
from his neighbor and friend, Deacon Beabout. 
The Big Four felt greatly the need of a band, 
[ 34 ] 


— AND ONE MORE 


but there seemed no possibility of a combina¬ 
tion in that line. So it was decided that little 
Tim was to sing the “ Battle Hymn of the 
Republic.” The boys little knew how much 
more wonderful little Tim’s voice would be 
than any band. 

Tim had a clear, birdlike soprano, sweet and 
appealing in quality. And so it was decided 
that Tim would ride the old white horse, as he 
could be more easily heard from that height 
than on foot. Mick whispered to Tim, “The 
old horse is safe, I never saw her shy.” 

“Now, Chiefs, we will disband to meet here 
promptly at nine o’clock 4th of July morn¬ 
ing to paint our animals and to get our feathers 
on, and all in readiness for the parade at one- 
thirty o’clock. We will bring our lunch with 
us, as we cannot leave our animals alone; they 
might roll and get all smudged. At nine o’clock 
here we must be, with every animal we can get, 
our flag, our feathers, and our paint,” said Peter. 

The Chiefs then literally fell on the apples, 
and were beyond all discipline and order for a 
good half hour’s fun, and then they separated 
and went to their homes. 

C3S] 


Chapter III. 


n the morning of the 4th of July 
there assembled at the camping 
place of the Big Four and One 
More a company the equal of 
which was never before seen in 
Pemberton—Big Chief Peter leading an unwill¬ 
ing cow; Timmy drawing an express wagon, which 
was gaily decorated with firecrackers and bunt¬ 
ing and loaded with a cageof Tim’s own designing 
containing two pretty little rabbits, snow white 
with flopping tan-brown ears. Poor Billy Bruce 
came in, red of face and short of breath, tugging 
at a rope to which was attached at the other 
end his old billy goat, who evidently was not 
in favor of being “ camelflaged ” into something 
he wasn’t. Next came Jack triumphantly 
waving a dozen little garter snakes as his dona¬ 
tion to the parade. From some quarter he had 
got a costume suggesting one worn by a snake 
charmer in the last circus that had visited 
Pemberton, and he looked his part sure enough. 
[36] 



— AND ONE MORE 

Big Chief Peter looked around proudly at 
the assembled company, nodded approvingly, 
and then said, 

“Where’s Mick?” 

But before any one could answer they heard 
the hoof beats of the ownerless horse. And 
soon there appeared Micky riding the old gray 
horse. 

Micky was dressed like something they had 
never seen before, — part clown, part jockey, 
and part Micky; as to head, all Indian; his face 
painted in spots of all the colors of the Diamond 
Dyes. He had manufactured a long nose, also 
dyed, and big flapping ears held in place by a 
generous piece of chewing gum. 

Cheers of joy and admiration greeted Mick’s 
arrival. He explained he had come a long way 
around to avoid meeting any one. The boys 
lost no time in getting at work. They began with 
the horse. While two painted, one gathered 
grass, and the other fed it to the patient old 
animal. It took some time to paint the horse, 
for the boys had to stop often to admire the 
result of their work. It surely was a work of 
art when finished — patriotic art. It was a 
[37] 


THE BIG FOUR 


hot day, and the boys were anxious, fearing 
their paint might run. 

Next came the cow, and a more perfect 
product of stripes and polka dots never was 
seen — in or out of a parade. When it came 
to the goat the paint was nearly all gone, so 
Micky took the brush and dipped it in first 
one can and then another until a more mottled, 
chicken-poxed, measly-looking animal you never 
saw than Billy Bruce’s billy goat. The wet 
paint attracted the flies, and the animals soon 
had a freckled appearance. 

“Oh, boys, will it ever come off?” exclaimed 
Billy in dismay. 

“Sure,” said Mick, “when it rains; anyway, 
ain’t it a good cause to be sacerificed in? There 
never was such a show in Pemberton as this is 
going to be.” 

Billy sighed in a resigned sort of way and 
said no more. 

When the boys had finished the animals, they 
turned to their own decoration, and here they 
let their fancy run riot. With all the paint 
they could scrape from the empty cans and a 
little that had splashed from the horse and cow, 
[38] 


— AND ONE MORE 


they dotted and striped their own faces, then, 
taking off their coats and trousers, leaving only 
their short-sleeved shirts and underdrawers, 
they stained with walnut stain their bare legs 
and arms. Then they fastened a belt of feathers 
around their waists, another around their ankles 
and wrists, and finally, to crown all, they 
fastened a headdress of red, white and blue 
feathers standing upright on their heads, and 
a real crown of feathers on the head of the old 
horse. 

The town clock struck one, the parade was 
to assemble at the village park at one-thirty. 
Peter marshalled his men and beasts, and 
holding high the American flag led the way. 
Next to him came Timmy on the patriotic 
horse; then Jack, drawing Tim’s cart of pinkish- 
green rabbits with one hand and waving the 
twisting snakes in the other; next came Billy 
and his unwilling goat, being coaxingly fed by 
Billy when it balked; then Micky leading the 
polka-dotted cow, following willingly as it 
munched on a bunch of grass which Mick had 
ingeniously fastened to a drooping stick tied 
to the cow’s horns. 


[ 39 ] 


THE BIG FOUR 


What a sight for Pemberton! 

As the boys drew up to the park, where the 
parade was assembling, the band was playing 
patriotic airs, firecrackers were popping, and 
bunting was waving everywhere. The Big Four 
and One More arrived in a blaze of glory; but 
when the animals turned and displayed their 
camouflaged sides, the people dropped flags 
and fireworks — then the base drum rattled 
— the trumpet blared — and the clarionet 
squealed. 

The Boy Scouts at first stood with mouths 
open, and then realizing who they were and 
what was expected of them, they gathered their 
mouths together and stood at attention, but 
unconsciously their hands saluted as the patri¬ 
otic spectacle of the Big Four and One More 
went by. 

Some one suggested that the Big Four take 
the lead of the line, but Peter modestly said 
that they preferred to be at the rear, suggesting 
politely that their guests, the Boy Scouts, 
should go to the head, following the Mayor and 
his Council, who rode in Pemberton’s finest 
automobile. 


[40] 


— AND ONE MORE 

Micky’s eyes were popping and his mouth 
was round with admiration of the Scouts, whose 
uniforms looked so trim and soldier-like, and 
who carried themselves in such a military way. 
A thrill of admiration, with, I fear, a mixture of 
envy, went through the Big Four and One More 
as they saw the Scouts march, in order, to their 
place in the line. All was ready, and the parade 
started. 

The arrangement was, that the band was to 
play for the march up the main street, and 
then as they turned at the soldiers’ monument 
Timmy was to begin the “Battle Hymn of the 
Republic,” and Peter had asked all who would 
to join in the chorus. 

The streets were lined with enthusiastic 
townspeople; porches and windows were all 
filled along the way. Flags were flyinjg from 
every house. It was a truly festive occasion 
for Pemberton. 

Up the street the line marched, first the band, 
and then the Mayor with his Council, then the 
Boy Scouts, every one of them erect and fine, 
eyes straight to the fore. Next came the 
veterans of the Civil War, feeble and few, 
[41] 


THE BIG FOUR 


but happy and proud. The veterans of the 
Spanish War followed them, and next came 
the Firemen in all their red and gold. Then, 
the admired of all admirers, came the Big 
Four and One More in all their painted glory. 

A proud hour it was for Peter and his Chiefs 
and Micky Mac Rae was only “ touching the high 
places.” The band played “America,” “Star 
Spangled Banner,” and “Marching Through 
Georgia” as they marched up the street, but 
when they turned at the monument Timmy’s 
great moment had come. He lifted his head, 
the feathers waving proudly; the old gray 
horse seemed to feel his importance, too, for 
he held his feather-crowned head high as if he 
were trying to make the onlookers forget his 
old stiff knees. 

There was no sound but the tread, tread, 
tread of the marching feet as Timmy’s clear 
sweet voice rang out the stirring words, 

“Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming 
of the Lord.” 

As the little boy sang all faces were 
turned to him. Tears rolled down the faces 
of the veterans. The women along the way 
[42] 


— AND ONE MORE 

waved frantically. When Timmy came to the 
chorus, 


“Glory, glory, hallelujah 
His truth is marching on” 

every one, in and out of the parade, was singing 
with him. Micky was singing and sobbing 
(although he didn’t know why) at the same 
time. Peter felt an awful lump in his throat 
and it was hard to sing, but he knew the dignity 
of the Big Four and One More must be main¬ 
tained, so he choked down his emotions and 
raised the flag a little higher and marched 
bravely on with eyes glued to the colors. 

As the line neared the Town Hall the fire bell 
raised its voice in celebration: cling-clang, cling- 
clang it rang furiously. 

This was too much for the old horse, who re¬ 
membered the days of his youth when he, as a 
fire horse, had answered that call at all hours 
of the day or night. 

He turned sharply from the line, making for 
the fire house, — so sharply that poor little 
Tim was thrown to the pavement, striking his 
arm on the curb. 


[43l 


THE BIG FOUR 


The line was broken and all was confusion; 
Peter and the rest of the Big Four ran to Tim, 
but the Boy Scouts were already at Tim’s side 
giving first aid by strapping his arm to his side 
thereby holding it immobile. The Scouts made a 
stretcher from the poles they carried and two of 
the khaki coats, fitting the sleeves over the poles 
and buttoning the coats together for the stretcher. 

Skillfully and gently the Scouts lifted little 
Tim, carrying him to his home. Peter ran 
ahead to prepare Mrs. Ware for Tim’s coming, 
and Jack went to get his father, the doctor. 
The Scouts’ first aid was done so well and 
quickly that Bruce and Micky looked in amaze¬ 
ment and admiration as they walked by Tim’s 
side, cheering him. 

Mrs. Ware from her porch had seen that 
something had gone wrong in the parade, and 
she was just starting out to inquire as Peter 
came up the walk. When she heard that Tim 
was being brought home she quickly turned 
to the house, hurrying to Tim’s room to make 
ready for his arrival. 

The Scouts followed Peter with Tim. They 
carried him carefully to his room and lifted 
[44] 


— AND ONE MORE 

him gently onto his bed. Dr. Bennett was at 
Tim’s side almost as quickly as the boys 
reached the house. On examination he found 
that Tim’s only trouble was a broken arm, 
which with the Scouts’ intelligent aid he quickly 
set. Tim was made as comfortable as possible. 
The brave little chap’s one thought ever since 
he had reached the house was to comfort and 
assure his mother and the boys. When they 
felt sure that Tim was all right and there was 
nothing more for them to do, the Scouts slipped 
quietly out of the house, rejoinfed their troop, 
and were soon marching in military order to 
the station, to take their train to St. Paul. 

The Big Four and One More stayed to be 
ready to do anything Mrs. Ware might need. 
They sat on the stairs, thoughtful but very 
grotesque figures. 

The feathers were drooping and the polka 
dots had run in dismal furrows. Their hearts 
were heavy and the tears would come when 
they heard Tim moan. Micky’s nose and ears 
were dangling limply around his neck. Some 
one exclaimed, “The animals!” At which 
they all jumped up and went out and down 
[45] 


THE BIG FOUR 


the street where they found some kind friends 
had tied the animals to the fence around the 
Park and the boys quietly led them away for 
a scrub. The snakes had sought their own 
freedom. 

A WEEK LATER 

In the auditorium of the Town Hall of 
Pemberton the evening of the 12th of July 
were gathered about twenty boys. Among 
them were Peter Fendall, Billy Bruce and 
Jack Bennett. 

Sitting on the platform was a khaki-clad 
Scout Master from Chicago, who had come at 
the request of the Big Four to form a Boy 
Scout troop at Pemberton. At the rear of the 
platform was a great American flag presented 
by the Mayor in recognition of the Big Four’s 
patriotism on the 4th of July. 

At one end of the platform was the village 
band. The Scout Master came forward and 
asked Peter, as Captain of the Big Four, to 
come to the platform. Peter, blushing furiously, 
came forward. The master took his hand and 
asked him to sit with him. Just then the door 
[46] 


— AND ONE MORE 


flew open and in burst Micky Mac Rae, breath¬ 
less in his excitement. 

“Oh, Peter, fellahs, here they come, and 
oh, here’s Tim and—” But Micky didn’t 
finish for the Boy Scouts marched in and on the 
shoulders of the two leaders was little Timmy 
Ware, his arm in a sling and his face a bit pale, 
but happy as a lord. He waved his good arm 
and shouted, 

“Cheer, cheer for the Boy Scouts.” 

The band played. The Scouts carried Tim 
to a chair on the platform where the Scout 
Master greeted him warmly, and then called 
the meeting to order. Micky took his place 
by Tim’s side uninvited but unconsciously 
assured. 

After the Pemberton Troop had been formed 
and names taken, the Scout Master said, 

“Scouts of St. Paul and boy friends of 
Pemberton! It is a great pleasure to come 
here to form a new Troop. 

“I congratulate Pemberton on its having 
boys of such earnestness, forcefulness and 
enthusiastic patriotism as the ‘Big Four and 
One More.’ 


[47] 


THE BIG FOUR 


“I want to emphasize the great need your 
country has for just such enthusiasm and pa¬ 
triotism. America needs now the interest and 
work of American boys in Americanizing the im¬ 
migrant boys and girls from foreign countries. 

“No pioneer of this great state — no general 
of our army could serve his country better 
than a Boy Scout who wins the affection and 
respect and creates loyalty in the hearts of 
the foreigners coming to make their homes in 
our dear country and who will have a voice in 
her government. 

“Remember the Scout principles are loyalty 
—bravery—kindness—chivalry and courtesy.” 

The meeting was now opened by the Scouts 
standing, and with right hand raised — the 
thumb and little finger together making the 
Scout symbol — they took the Scout oath. 
Then came the pledge to the Flag. It was a 
solemn ceremony. 

The lights were all darkened except the one 
spot-light which played on the stars and stripes 
of “Old Glory.” 

The boys, old and new Scouts, stood at 
salute and pledged their allegiance to the 
[48] 


— AND ONE MORE 


Flag which means loyalty to America, her 
laws and constitution. Singing of “The Star 
Spangled Banner” followed, and the music 
almost raised the roof of the old Town Hall. 

When the ceremony was over the Scout 
Master whispered to Tim. 

The little fellow stood and raising his good 
arm sang — his whole heart poured out in the 
words: 

“My country ’tis of thee, 

Sweet land of liberty, 

Of thee I sing.” 


[49] 



































* 



i 



































and one 
more 



